


Additional Information on the Curious Case of Doctor Henry Jekyll and Mr Edward Hyde

by EnjolrasAmy



Category: Jekyll & Hyde - Wildhorn
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Betrayal, Capture, Domination, Drug Abuse, Duel Identities, F/M, Kink, Lots of implied ships, Lots of pairings, Major character death - Freeform, Mental Asylum, Rape, Rough Sex, Torture, Violence, asylum AU, breath play, role-play, semi-canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-10
Updated: 2014-02-10
Packaged: 2018-01-11 20:09:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1177400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EnjolrasAmy/pseuds/EnjolrasAmy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wildhorn Musical Semi-canon, AU fic. Modern setting. Written by EnjolrasAmy (Typist of Elizabeth Beaconsfield and Lucy Harris), CH (Typist of Emma) and CK (Typist of Jekyll/Hyde and Simon Stride).</p>
<p>Starts approximately with Board of Governors and tends to follow the timeline of the show up until Lucy's Death, although the actual time period could be longer than the musical implies.</p>
<p>Dr. Jekyll's experiments lead to the Board of Governors of St. Jude's Hospital debating his sanity. This spills over into Dr. Jekyll's engagement party, where he meets a young prostitute in the Red Rat: Lucy Harris. But Dr. Jekyll cannot control his transformations into Edward Hyde, and so he runs away from all he loves. He is caught and admitted into the mental Asylum. However, this place cannot contain Hyde, who returns to the hunt for pleasure. especially at the hands and lips of the desirable Lucy Harris.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Board of Governors

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a role-play with two of my best friends. Has been edited to make it flow better for a fictional reader. Slow updates as it's still being role-played. Chapters not always added in order of publishing, but I will try and organise the entire story. Thank you.
> 
> Constructive criticism is welcomed and valued.

With what precious little independence and power his position seemed to allow, Stride firmly crossed the vast hall of St. Jude's Hospital with a gallant raise of the head; acknowledging the restless audience of the amphitheatre-esque structure with a subtly insidious grin. “January 13th, 2014. The Board of Governors of St. Jude's Hospital is now met.” Jotting down all proposed words with a natural tendency for such business, a flick of the wrist served as the flamboyant conclusion to the sentence. “Sir Danvers Carew, K.B.E. - Chairman. The Right Honourable Sir Archibald Proops, Q.C. Bishop Basil’ Rupert, 14th Bishop of Basingstoke, Lady Elizabeth Beaconsfield, General Lord Glossop and, Lord Theodore Savage.” Offering the residing society members the true extent of his sincerity with a respectable bow, Stride allowed one hand to rest upon his chest. “The order of business will be conducted by the secretary to the Board of Governors: Mr. Simon Stride. Proposition 274, then: the request to permit In Vitro Fertilisation within the medical practices of St. Jude's. Order. Order!” Taking her seat as she was introduced, Lady Beaconsfield - or Bessie, as she was known amongst friends - sighed. One more tiresome meeting. Glancing over to Savage, she couldn't help but grin at his usual flamboyance. That man always dressed like an eccentric. Her piercing gaze swept over the rest of them. At least they had the sense to attend the meeting properly dressed. Smoothing down her own suit-skirt, she lent on the table in faux fascination.

“And who is the proposer, Mr. Stride?” She asked. Rarely ever engaging in professional conversation or being acknowledged due to their foolish ignorance, Stride's eyes lit up ever-so-discreetly upon being addressed; which prompted a semi-reluctant confession.

“Richard G. Edwards.” And, with that, an amused laugh escaped him. “A Darwinist.” At his words, the Bishop struggled to remain calm.

“A Darwinist?” Rising harshly from his chair - an enraged expression upon aged features - Rupert's chin - well, all of them - jutted out in sheer resentment. “Evidently, the man is no Christian!” Raising an eyebrow in distaste, Bessie sat back, already knowing the way her vote would be going. Although she did not agree with the proposer, she still felt she had a duty to ensure the proper order of business was carried out.

“Oh, do sit down, my dear Bishop. We should at least allow Mr. Stride the courtesy to finish the proposal before we dismiss it.” Words had formed on his tongue - this much was apparent - but no such sound escaped the frail lips of the Bishop. He had been silenced by a woman. This was hardly a respectable gesture.

“For the sake of decorum. If you must know, I find today's penalties for heresy to be lacking in consequence.”  
Dwelling in well-hidden impatience - as though the excessively-controlled exhale were not enough indication to proceed - Stride's hand rapped against the podium once with subtle urgency; relishing the moment of being the puppeteer.

“Order, please! Lords! Ladies!”

“And we all know how lenient you are towards heresies, Your Grace.” Inclining her head in what could be determined as a respectful bow towards the Bishop, Bessie knew just how to incline her head to give the impression of sarcasm over respect. “My apologies, Mr Stride. Despite his feigned modesty, a child-like chuckle went undetected from Stride's threshold of self-control; resulting in his gaze being directed to the ground whilst he proceeded to bite his lip into silence. Once standard etiquette resumed, the civil secretary stood tall once again whilst the overly-amused gentleman within perished with all his other acts.

“Duly noted. Now, may it be said that Dr. Edwards wishes to - I quote - ‘Revolutionise modern science and the medical world with the use of a simple embryo.’ Biting her lip to disguise the small smile that spread over them, Bessie looked down at the table, hiding the mirth in her eyes. Listening intently - although it was hardly likely her vote would change - she eventually glanced up, struggling to contain her sarcastic laughter. “Oh please. That is nothing short of playing God. As I'm sure His Grace will agree with me.”

“Hear, hear!” With a bemused snort, experienced eyes peering over the rim of intricately-trimmed facial hair, Glossop's eyes rolled with an inner dismissal. “In all my life, I have never heard of anything so profound and absurd! The gentleman is criminally insane!”

“What self-respecting gentleman calls himself a 'Doctor' when in possession of such childish theories? It is legally unfeasible and the height of ignorance!” Proops agreed, adding his voice and opinion to the rising sound levels. Resorting to eaves-dropping silently on Beaconsfield's semi-conflict with the Bishop, Savage unleashed a camp giggle with both hands clamped over his mouth.

“Oh, Bessie…

“GENTLEMEN!” Oblivious to just how loud his outburst had ranged, Stride exaggerated a false smile of feigned apology. “I must insist that proper regulations remain enforced. All who object with such severity again will be asked to depart.”

“Well, I, for one, certainly have objections to such blasphemous claims!” Interjected the Bishop after a pause. Somehow managing to shoot a smile to Glossop and Proops, while glaring at Savage in the same instant, Bessie sighed. She had a feeling she knew which way the vote would go, but did Teddy really have to be so obviously stupid? How he had got onto the board she had no idea, but suspected his inherited wealth and position was the main reason. Settling back, she didn't reply, hoping to ensure that this vote could happen quickly and she could attend her more important meeting that afternoon. The last thing she wanted was more time than necessary in Savage's presence. As though the stress of the scenario did not entail a great enough blood pressure, Stride's lips seemed to warp into a terribly unamused line of sheer impatience. Evidently, he was at the edge of his tether and all conduct threatened to fall apart.

“PLEASE! Lord Savage! Lady Beaconsfield! Sir Archibald! Lord Glossop! Sir Bishop! May we all, for the sake of dignity, remain silent?!” Dammit! With a harsh rap, Simon's hand turned red-raw from the polished surface. “Thank you!” To himself, he added ‘Breathe, Simon. Breathe.’ Annoyed at the fact that he hadn't acknowledged the fact she'd remained silent for 30 seconds, Bessie drummed her fingers on the arms of her chair. Wincing for him at the pain that he must be experiencing, she turned her head towards him demurely, waiting for the hush to fall again. Although he did not require her sympathy, the scolding look upon Stride's features was enough to prevent any such emotions being expressed. Thus, which much irritance, the conclusion was drawn. “Given the extraordinary circumstances in which Dr. Edwards cannot attend, can all those in favour of a 'live' presentation and further development say, 'Aye'.” Staying stubbornly mute, Elizabeth refused to say 'Aye.' Not only was the man unable to defend his proposal himself, it was unethical. She awaited the time when she could add her 'Nay' to the chorus that would surely follow. Amused by the silence - which all had anticipated - Stride spared a dramatically-sarcastic glance of empathic rejoicement to the audience before returning to his peers. Oh, how he loved those words rolling off of his tongue. “All those opposed, 'Nay'.” Not wishing to be the first to dissent - especially as she did not want the Bishop mad at her - she waited for him to speak before adding her voice.

“Nay.” Voiced the Bishop.

“Nay.” Bessie chimed in

“Nay.” Added Glossop.

Nay.” Replied Proops.

“Nay.” Savage stressed with a flourish of his wrist. After a pause, when all were waiting on Danvers to have his say, he parted his lips.

“Nay.” Said Danvers with quiet authority. Jotting down the conclusion with an elegant flair, Stride allowed his own opinions of the matter to be dismissed professionally - instead, allowing such amusement to be expressed via. dramatic body language and emphasis on certain vowels.

“Well, well, it seems we are all unanimous in that respect. I shall gladly inform Dr. Edwards that Proposal 274 has been _unfortunately rejected_.” Bowing the head once in acknowledgement of his peers - spreading his arms out to the audience as though parting the Red Sea - Stride observed as the hall began to revert to silence and the Governors buggered off to attend to 'more pressing matters'. It amused him to no end knowing that they only noticed him when the situation demanded - it made his facade and internal smirk all the more embracing.

 


	2. The Conspiration of the Governors

TO COME SOON


	3. Lucy Harris and Dr Henry Jekyll First Meet

With the enforced insistence of his colleagues and associates, Jekyll had found himself dragged along to the darkened establishment of the Red Rat; a rendezvous he never dreamt of stooping to. The occasion in question - he was reminded - was his bachelor party; or, a 'stag do' for those less inclined. And, yet, it truly didn't feel like one. Utterson - his best man - had retreated upstairs in the arms of two rather exposed women; leaving the good doctor alone to dwell in his isolation with a reluctant bottle of semi-chilled beer. Throughout the duration of the evening, a young female appeared to maintain eye-contact of great intrigue yet never showed signs of making contact. How queer. Having noticed Jekyll as soon as he'd entered the Red Rat, Lucy had instantly wondered about him. He didn't look like the average client they attracted. Focusing on her dance - a dance of seduction, leaving many of the men in the room wanting - she had little time to dwell on his presence until she stepped off stage, to be immediately accosted by Spider. Pretty much throwing a red dress at her, his meaning was clear. Slipping the dress on quickly, Spider dragged her out to the bar area, handed her a drink and indicated the young man who looked so different. Nodding in compliance, the star attraction slid over to him, batting away the other men who tried to claim her as she walked past.

“Sir? This is for you. On the house.”

Jekyll - himself - had been overly self-conscious that his appearance in the Red Rat was an oddity; even within such an obscure establishment. The regular attendants - or, so he gathered - did not look to be desirable company nor did they resemble respectable gentlemen; even though the occasional political figure or religious saint would drop by for hushed conversation. Dismissing the peculiar arrangements of 'The Spider' towards Lucy, Jekyll successfully managed to drink half of his first bottle by the time the young woman had approached.

“It's a kind offer but I really am quite fine, thanks. Truly, I am.”

“But please, Sir…” Swaying gently, her hips moving in time to the soft background music, she held the glass out to him. With an uneasy glance back to Spider, she sighed inwardly as he made a subtle gesture that meant 'Push him. Push him to take it from you.' Looking back up at Jekyll, she used her free hand to run it softly up and down his arm, applying slight pressure to try and get him to move with her. “The Master will be very offended if you refuse.”

Internally yearning for John to miraculously return and deprive him of this woman's presence, Jekyll seemed bewildered for a moment too many; eyes widening a fraction as delicate fingers began to sensuously trail his arm. Of course, unused to such dwellings, he was oblivious to the ulterior motive.

“Then, I shall pray he understands my modesty.”

At his reluctance and his wild glancing, Lucy bit her lip, feeling pity for the man who stood before her. His first time. It was rather sweet, in a way, but she still felt awful, for both herself and what she stood to lose should she fail to get him into her bed, and for him because he had no idea what he was doing.

“But he will not understand!” Lowering her voice slightly, standing on tip-toe to whisper into his ear, she sighed, miraculously keeping the drink steady. “It would turn out worse for me if you do not. It's just a drink, Sir. That is all.”

Likewise, Jekyll learned to pity the female - somewhat, developing an understanding of how dire and desperate the situation must be for her - so, seeing no alternative, a feigned hand of gratitude accepted the imposed offering; exchanging a simple, firm nod of the head.

“Living life under the influence of others is not the way for a young woman such as yourself…”

Smiling back shyly, Lucy took a small step back, still keeping a hand in contact with his arm. Turning her back on Spider as he watched with hawk-like eyes, she gave the subtlest shake of the head.

“I had no choice.”

“I believe there is always a choice; at times, it simply seems we are deprived of options. From your recent performance, however, I conclude you would have the intelligence to make the right decisions.” Awkwardly meeting the shy eyes of Lucy with a genuine desire to assist, Jekyll managed a distant smile. “Jekyll. Henry Jekyll.”

“There's never a choice for people like me. Any choices I had were taken long ago when I was first ensnared in this Spider's web.” Meeting his eyes with a small smile of her own, the young prostitute inclined her head, for once, not thinking of profit, but more of how she felt she could love those eyes. “Lucy. Lucy Harris.”

“Oh, I don't think that is especially true. And, by 'Spider's web', I presume, you mean...?” Jekyll allowed his eyes to wander around all four walls; indicating to Lucy just what he was referring to. “A pretty name for a pretty woman.”

Laughing a little, Lucy nodded.

“In more ways than one. Master is known as the Spider, and yes - I suppose - this is his web. Albeit a more comfortable one.” Blushing a little at his compliment, she waved a hand airily. “Just as your name suits you, Sir.”

Seeming to physically recoil on learning the alternate name of the establishment, Jekyll visually shuddered.

“Such an unpleasant name. I can't imagine your experiences here are pleasant.” Slowly shaking his head with a modest, bashful grin, the misplaced gentleman raised a hand of insistence. “Doctor Jekyll is perfectly fine. Or Henry.”

Glancing around - hoping Spider was at least preoccupied with another client - Lucy couldn't help but instinctively reach out to steady him, her slim, pale arms gently wrapping around his, trying to warm him.

“I cannot complain too much. I have a roof over my head and food. What more could a girl want or need?” Unwrapping her arms from around him, she inclined her head. “Very well, Si- Henry. If that's what you wish.”

Unsure just how to respond to the considerate gesture, Jekyll awkwardly cleared his throat and politely brushed himself down with a sheepish side-smile.

“Oh, I feel a woman would not be a woman if she was not yearning for what could not be.” Bowing once in respectful inclination, the gentleman slowly stomached another drink from the chilled bottle. “My wish is to cure those abandoned by society. I feel it shall be granted soon. It is on the horizon. I can feel it.”

Lowering her gaze shyly, Lucy shook her head gently.

“Oh... No. I know what I can never have. I've learned to live without it.” Tilting her head in curiosity, she wondered what he meant. “How do you propose to do that? There's so many…”

Subtly trying to - indirectly - lead Lucy onto the path of reason, Jekyll held out a hand of emphasis; eloquently gracing the air with professional gesture.

“Recently, have you ever attempted to change your circumstances? Aim higher? Set yourself free?” With more pride than he initially believed to possess, the young scientist's eyebrows rose with great excitement. “I have produced a serum that intends to separate the good and evil elements of man respectively. A scientific and social breakthrough.”

Slightly taken in by his words, Lucy was still rather confused. She knew what life had in store for her, and that nothing could change her life now she was where she was. She just hoped her life would be long enough for someone to remember her, and love her for who she was, not just as a whore.

“I cannot…” Frowning, she tried to make sense of what he was saying. “So... You're saying you can split a man into two?”

Certainly not the reaction he was expecting - at least, anticipating a more enthusiastic response - Jekyll could not help but frown.

“It seems to be that you can but simply rely on the provisions life has given you. By no means must your life as a burlesque dancer be who you are remembered as.” Nodding with much eagerness, he suddenly paused. “Yes! Well...No. Not literally. You see, the chemical compound shall truly eliminate all evil from mankind; leaving all men with positive, clear thoughts free of corruption and darkness.”

A little worried at his frown it was all Lucy could do to avoid glancing around for Spider, somehow knowing he'd be watching her. She had to appear in control.

“There's nothing left for me, Dr. Jekyll. I have tried to escape this life many times, but each time people turn me away because of what I am. There is no climbing up for us.” Smiling a little sadly, she sighed. “But that would be no good for us... The Girls of the Night rely on corruption and sin to sustain us. It's how we earn a pitiful living.”

“And, yet, I have not turned you away. On the contrary, I am offering you assistance and an opportunity to make a decent, respectable living for yourself. Surely, Miss. Harris, that is what you truly wish: a new life?” Shaking his head, Jekyll could only object. “With the success of my formula, there will be no need for negativity. We shall all live in a world where everyone is respected and equal!”

“I... I do... I want a different life, but… I do want to see a world I've never seen before. So I can soar. But there's nothing I can do. This Spider's web keeps me tethered to the ground.”

“Well-” Jekyll rose his bottle high into the air as a form of informal toast. “-here's to grand ambitions, lost souls and distant dreams.”

Lucy smiled and inclined her head, accepting the toast.

“And I wish you luck with your work.”

 


	4. The First Meeting of Lucy Harris and Mr Edward Hyde

The Red Rat - as the name would suggest - resided within a rapidly-decaying incline of the London slums; consumed by impenetrable fog and sin. Weary souls departed with high spirits - only to return with concerning regularity in a state far from desirable. Libertine to prig. Moralist to sinner. Wealthy to poor. All sorts of terrible creatures roamed the grounds. But none quite so terrifying or repulsive as the hunchbacked villain that stalked the open ground with nimble gesture; limbs perilously thin and face hideously distorted. Darkened eyes were sunk into two deep pits in the flesh whilst residual bone and matter curled up to resemble a bizarre representation of a nose and mouth. The demon in question - drenched in a sooted cloak - circled the establishment with dire yearning; the instinctive lust a predator yields for it's prey. And, as with any animalistic being, this enigma unleashed it's fatal call; vocal chords pinched with great ferocity. All that escaped was a taunting whisper. “Dearest Lucy…” Alone in her room - trying to rest - Lucy hugged her pillow close, still dreaming of Jekyll, and now nice he had been to her. Her foolish young heart alive with love, she sighed as she saw the sun sinking down below the buildings. Standing up slowly, her hands went to the back of her red satin corset, tightening the laces to the maximum. Checking her appearance in the mirror resting on her dresser, she froze at his whisper, terrified for her very life, aware of her vulnerability, Nellie and Gwenny out. She was alone.

“Sir?”

What consumed the surface of Lucy's mirror was - by no means - the reflection of a gentleman. No: a gentleman could not possibly resemble such a grotesque monster. This fiendish creation lumbered forward with an arched back; one hand out-stretched in mock bowing to 'respect' the female before it.

“You were not expecting me?” Such an expression was executed with excessive sarcasm; a false gasp arousing itself from within. Then, in one split second, all facial features plummeted into a sinister monotonal sneer. “How terribly naive.” Biting her lip, turning slowly to face him, not looking directly at him, as if she was trying to escape a dangerous animal - which, to an extent, she was - Lucy tried to slowly move around him, to get out of her room to the 'safe room', barred and secure.

“I'm sorry, Sir, but we are not used to customers at this time. We are closed.”

Dramatically glancing around the perimeter of the room with a crooked chin - head physically inclined to a sickening angle - the deformed figure wagged a patronising finger towards the reluctant prostitute; showing no further advances as of yet in a bid to not further arouse suspicion.

“I don't believe that is quite true, my dear Lucy; just as I don't believe you believe it is the truth either. You really mustn't lie, Lucy; lying gets you scarred in this world…”

Swallowing nervously, Lucy could feel her palms turning sweaty. Trying to wipe them subtly on the back of her panties, she looked to the floor, unable to even lay eyes on the figure before her without shuddering in fear and disgust.

“I am not lying. Spider doesn't open the door to customers until eight at the earliest.”

“Then, you must realise how terribly important this sweet rendezvous is if your dearest Spider allowed me entry. For, I am a man - mark my words well - and all gentlemen are entitled to their pleasures...I'm buying what you're offering: it could not be made simpler.”

‘No... He wouldn't…’ Lucy murmured to herself, before growing more confident, confident that she was in the right. “You may be a man, but in here, we play by my rules. You are more powerless in here now that you will ever know.” Although she knew it was a lie - knowing that despite her rules, he would always have power over her - Lucy still kept her eyes low as she edged around the room, keeping as much distance between them as possible. Observant of Lucy's fearful motions - every step executed with great caution - the savage creature's tongue flicked in a resemblance of a chortle; gaining a sickening hilarity from such a display of lies.

“It seems the enforcer of rules does not abide them. How very modern.” Far from intimidated by her 'more confident' display, the anorexic fiend's fingers spasmed. “Why seek power when I already possess it?”

Resisting glancing up at him - imagining him as a cobra, if she merely glanced into his eyes, she'd be trapped - Lucy stopped her edging, trying to draw him away from the door to enable her to make a break for it.

“I abide by my own rules. Spider needs us. My rules protect me and protect his investments.” Taking a trembling gulp, she rubbed her bare arm uncomfortably. “You do not possess all power.”

“Oh, I highly doubt you'll need protecting whilst I'm around.” On an average day, such an oath would be taken as a God-send. However, the owner of such a promise was far from a saint. In fact, the very statement was sheer irony. “I have no need for all power when I have you, my dear Lucy…”

“Experience begs to differ.” Meeting his eyes at last, a fire and rage burning within hers, she shook her head, denying his statements. “I am not your dear Lucy. I am not yours!”

Seeming to incline his head in a rare display of 'hurt', Hyde dramatically turned the tables of the conversation; eyes tearing apart her very soul with cold apathy.

“Unless, of course, you were expecting someone else...Which you weren't, were you? No, Lucy would never stoop to such a level of defiance.”

Trying to look away from his cold eyes, Lucy trembled, backing up against the wall, pressing herself back against it, as if she wanted to sink right through.

“I am not exclusively yours, Sir. I was expecting nobody but Spider or Nellie, coming to chase me for costume fitting.”

In a bizarre feat of desperation - or stupidity - a vast stack of paper notes were thrown from the pockets of Hyde; randomly scattering across the less-than-adequate room.

“I feel you should change your mind.”

Flinching back, scared he was going to hit her, or throw something worse than money at her, Lucy knew she had no choice. Spider would probably kill her if she didn't bring in any income, and if there was just an inkling of truth in his words, that Spider had allowed this, she'd be worth nothing by refusing his advances. Resigning herself to her fate, she retraced her steps back to the bed, keeping her eyes on him at all time.

“I…”

Evaluating the contemplation in Lucy's eyes - the sheer agony of condemning herself to such a cruel experience - Hyde could only gaze on with pale features; an inhuman noise of approval arising with such a conclusion.

“Wise girl.” There were no motions from Hyde to indicate Lucy should retire to the bed. In fact, the spindly being seemed oddly infatuated by simply gazing upon her. Simply standing by the side of her bed, trembling, Lucy could only look on. Unsure what he wanted her to do, she simply stood there, letting his gaze drink her in. Resting a hand on her hip, her other hand rubbing around her neck, pushing her hair over one shoulder in a seductive manner, she bit her lip, trying to imagine it was someone - anyone - else opposite her rather than this figure which nightmares were made from. Somewhat impressed by the feigned seduction of the prostitute before him, Hyde's head cocked to a peculiar angle as the cuffs of his shirt began to unfasten; proceeded by the leather belt surrounding his spindly waist. “Do you ever have nightmares, Lucy?”

Almost visibly trembling at his undressing process, it was all Lucy could do to not fall backwards to sit on the bed. Sending a silent prayer to a God she hoped was listening, she tilted her head away from him so he wouldn't see the revulsion in her eyes.

“Occasionally, Sir. As do all people.”

As impossible as it would appear to be, Hyde - somehow - had positioned himself directly behind Lucy as a rumble of thunder resonated in the distance. Spindly fingers prying at her bodice, the creature sneered with animalistic lust.

“And, just what do you fear...?”

Unknowing that he had moved swiftly and silently behind her - having taken her eyes off him just for a moment - Lucy jumped as his cold, dead touch brushed against her back. A little scared - the thunder only adding to her terror - her hands instantly went to her back, tugging on the knot holding the corset lacings together, unable to afford a relacing if he decided to tear the item off her very back. Trembling at his sneer, she turned her head, trying to catch a glimpse of his cold eyes, trying to read them.

“A cage. Being trapped and no way to escape.”

Lacking concern for the sheer terror Lucy was experiencing at his hand - even though there was genuine intrigue with regards to her fears - Hyde tugged once more upon the woman's bodice before roughly seizing her waist with two skeletal hands; pale, inhuman eyes forcing themselves into her spirit.

“We are more alike than you would think, dear Lucy.”

Her breath catching in her throat as he tugged at her bodice, only releasing with a muffled gasp as his hands grasped her waist, twisting her around so she had no choice but to look into his eyes, his look practically freezing her in place, slowly decaying her spirit and fight.

“We are nothing alike!”

Showing no signs of faltering, Hyde's grip only tightened as he pressed Lucy towards his torso with brute force.

“I once knew a man who foolishly denied the truth - only to suffer dire consequences. It would be unwise to follow in his path.”

As he crushed her body to his, Lucy tried to turn her eyes away from his. Impossible. His eyes held her, ensnared her in his thrall. Letting out a sharp gasp - almost unidentifiable as a muffled cry of "No!" - she tried to wriggle free of his grasp.

“I follow no path but my own, Sir…”

As though she were merely a rag doll within his clamp-like grip, Hyde tossed Lucy aside so she sprawled out upon the bed; fiendishly placing both hands on either side of her squirming form. “None but my own, of course…”

Sprawled on the bed, staring up at him fearfully, Lucy knew she couldn't scream. She regretted telling him her fear of being caged, knowing it would have only given him ammunition to use against her. As his arms surrounded her like a cage of flesh, she frantically glanced to either side, her chest heaving as she took one shaking breath after another.

“I do not follow your path here.”

“And, yet, here you are. Below me. Where you belong.” Casting a darkened shadow of corruption and fear across the reclined form of Lucy - basking her youthful features in distortion and terror - Hyde's spine arched at a peculiar angle before the woman's skirt found itself around her ankles. “Yes…”

Closing her eyes as the truth of his words hit, she knew that she'd been wrong to listen to Jekyll. He'd tried to tell her she was worth more and - like a fool - she'd believed it. This was all she was good for. She almost wished to die at that very moment, realising her entire life had been a lie. She'd always belong under a man, under everyone, everyone treading her into the dust. Closing her eyes again as she felt the thin fabric of her skirt pulled away, it took all her courage to not cry out, although she was unable to stop the whimper that slipped from her lips.

“No…”

Hyde, of course, knew all of Jekyll's internal thoughts and opinions on Lucy - oh, how amusing they seemed to be. However, his own evaluation of the whore could not be any more great a contrast.

“If you do not scream, dearest Lucy, I shall spare you unnecessary agony for the time being. Do not say I am inconsiderate.”

Biting her lip, Lucy nodded, her head pressed into the pillow. Raising her arms above her head, grasping onto the iron bedposts of her head-board, she knew that her only way to prevent any noise was to channel her reaction to another part of her body, and what better way than to grip the bars that offered her a little safety?

“For once…”

“Such wit when faced with fear! Such fire and spirit! My dear Lucy, you truly are a remarkable specimen of the female gender. Tender and youthful yet wise and instinctive. How terribly boring.” Dismissing the details in favour of action, Hyde tauntingly began to grind against his 'possession' with a rasped chuckle.

“I may be boring, but at least... At least…” Any further comment she wished to make was silenced both by her own fear and his grinding. Although she detested his very being, she knew that this was what she was. She had no other life. Knowing he was knowingly teasing her, it was all she could to to not scream in frustration, instead clenching the bars tighter until her knuckles turned white. Upon Lucy's acceptance, Hyde's aggression seemed to diminish for a temporary period of time; in fact, the motion could almost pass as tenderness.

“You seem terribly uptight, my dear…” Thus, fingers began to trail their way across Lucy's wrists. “At ease…”

As his movements became more tender, it made her even more terrified, not knowing if this was a trap for her, to make her cry out or if he did genuinely care for her comfort. As his skeletal fingers trailed across her wrist, she shivered.

“I... I'm not uptight…”

Hyde, himself, was not entirely conscious of just what his actions or affections meant towards Lucy. Perhaps, he did care: in his own twisted way.

“Not from what I can see…”

Clenching the bars tighter, she no longer knew if her trembling was due to fear, his touch or the effort required to keep her death-like grip on the bars, trying to stay in control.

“You cannot tell me what to feel, Sir.”

“But, we are in sync: you and I. I feel what you feel and you feel what I feel. Embrace our presence, Lucy. For, I embrace you. Learn to embrace this face and life shall become exhilarating…” Stroking a finger across her cheek - playing with loose hairs - Hyde's grunting slowed to a more 'listenable' tone.

“We are not in sync!” Although she knew defiance would be futile and wrong - especially in this man's presence - she tried to push him off, feeling trapped by his weight, trapped by his very being. She wanted nothing more than to run and hide. “And I could never embrace you... Nothing is ours. Nothing for the girls of the night…” Shivering as he brushed her cheek, her breath caught in her throat, closing her eyes as his touch sent a wave of warmth through her being. Her grip on the bars released very slightly.

“Perhaps, you may come to terms with us in due course...In time, you will learn to grasp at the very lease of life and elevate yourself to greater worth. You reside in these dwellings unfit for dogs yet speak with a greater fire and ferocity that almost makes me proud.”

“What else do I have waiting for me?” Bitterly, giving up any hope of resistance, her entire grip slackened, her hands unclasping, her arms merely resting on the pillow either side of her head. “It is the one thing the Spider cannot remove yet…”

“A life where one appreciates lust and sin...You need not be sold out to other men but as an exclusive...aside...to myself.” Devilishly smirking upon such defiance, Hyde pressed himself further down upon her form to prove a point. Testing her. “Speaking of removal…”

Bitterly, she shook her head, a tightly choked sob coming from her throat as he pressed down on her. Her fear giving her confidence, she spat out her words, not caring if she got spit on his face.

“I'd rather die than be your exclusive whore. I will never be yours. Never.”

Pressing a finger to Lucy's trembling lips, Hyde managed to conceal a malignant smirk of homicidal potential.

“I would not wish for that, Lucy, as it may happen sooner than you reckon…”

“If the choice is death or be your whore, I would rather die!” Once again fighting his control, she tried to push him away again, using her knees, unintentionally spreading her legs under him as she tried to push him away.

“You would rather die than confess the truth? So be it…” And, with the rage of some rabid animal, Hyde's hands concealed themselves around Lucy's throat; fingers acting as daggers as the precious breath was squeezed out.

“No... No! Please... Please... I'll do anything... Anything... PLEASE!!!” Crying out as she struggled to breathe, Lucy started begging. Each word getting fainter and fainter, she hoped some pity would be found in that dead gaze. “Please Sir... Please... I... I'll do whatever you want... Please... Let me-”

Deadly pale eyes lacking all form of pity and sympathy - and conscience, for that matter - Hyde seemed to prolong his grasp to prove a point before tossing Lucy aside in a grand motion of hatred and irritance.

“Don't try my patience again.”

Taking several shuddering, deep breaths, massaging her throat, trying to suck the life-giving fluid back into her lungs and body, Lucy lay panting on the floor, her skirt now in tatters and scattered around the room and her breasts coming out of the critically loosened restraint of her corset. In short, she was virtually naked before him.

“I... I'm sorry…”

Despite the anger that consumed him, Hyde could not dismiss the lust upon his lips from the sight at his feet. Tauntingly, he lightly kicked the woman with his boot.

“How pitiful…” Flinching as his boot connected, Lucy rolled over to face him before scrambling to her knees, debating on standing and trying to escape the room, having nothing between her and the door. However, she was torn. The last thing she wanted was for someone else to suffer because of her. Sitting himself on the edge of the bed, Hyde's eyes darkened with a primal yearning; practically caressing his own leg opposite the conflicted Lucy. She had to finish her duty - of that she was quite clear - but it was with a heavy heart. Making her way slowly over to him, no amount of courage could disguise the fear in her eyes as she hesitated next to him, unsure if he wanted her kneeling before him or lying before him. Slowly unclasping her corset, she let the restrictive garment fall off, clad in nothing before him, trying to believe in a better life, a better place… Whilst the good doctor would not stand for such immoral behaviour, Hyde's world seemed to erupt with lust and primal need upon the exposure of the woman before him. Bruises and scars were evident upon her oh-so-tender skin but Hyde need not worry about such deformities. If anything, they were more alike than he believed. “Aha...! That's right, Lucy...Closer... _Clooooseeeeer_ …” Slowly moving towards him on his command, the scarred whore blushed a little, trying to not feel ashamed of her scars, even though they each marked one harsh customer after another. Almost as if she was in a dream, she swayed over to him, imagining it was anyone other than him. Wishing Nellie'd come back, but she knew that would be unlikely. Exaggerating a gasp of sheer ecstasy, Hyde trailed both hands across Lucy's exposed breasts; grunting with malignant yearning. “Lucy...Come to me…” Shuddering at his touch, it took all her courage to keep moving forwards into his touch. Turning around slowly as she reached him, her right arm lifted up and wrapped around the back of his head, her fingers wrapping themselves into his hair. Rocking his body back in some possessed manner - much too demonic to be considered a pleasant sight - Hyde's eyes widened with sheer passion. “Luuuuucyyyy....” Her voice coming out as a low hiss as she tried to not shudder from his touch and pull away, she kept herself pinned to him, preferring to have some control over him rather than him to have complete control over her.

“S... Siiiir…”

Consciously aware of the discrete defiance within his primal yearning, a harsh hand began to grind it's way across her bosom; hardly as tender as before.

“You are glad to see me...?”

Gasping a little as his touch changed, harsher and rougher, she nipped her lip hard enough to cut it slightly before she replied, lying as confidently as she could.

“Yes, Sir... Always…”

Teeth gritted in an eerie concoction of irritance and lust, Hyde's eyes darkened to a greater level than usual.

“... _You are lying_... Don't think you are capable of lying to me, Lucy…”

Her natural instincts fighting to take over, Lucy tried to resist them, but they swiftly overcame her frightened mind. She tried to pull away from him, to escape his embrace, to reach some place of safety.

“No... How can you even know?”

Offering the opportunity to depart herself from his grasp - for, the thrill was in the chase - Hyde looked up from the bed with mere sockets where his eyes should be.

“I can always tell when you are lying.”

Reaching her door - a surprise, as she had not expected him to release her - she pulled it open hastily, stopping as the sound of a rowdy night beginning in the Red Rat. She couldn't go down in her state. Not now there was customers. Slamming the door shut, she pressed her back against it, trembling, looking at anything except his face.

“Can you tell when others are lying?”

Although no physical connection was made between the two, Hyde's presence alone was enough to hasten the body's rhythm. And, this knowledge served as motivation to his nature. “Lying is sinfully human, my dear, and we all have succumbed to the urge. 't'is the fear in the eye and the instinct to cry that I truly seek to purge…”

“What, my instinct? I... I can assure you, Sir, that it is not my nature to cry.” Although she was scared, she knew she had to disprove him in some form. Taking a few trembling steps towards him, she wrapped her arms around herself, trying to cover herself slightly from his gaze.

“Oh, I did not specify it was you who cried, Lucy. No. _No_...You are _much_ too strong a woman to bring yourself to tears.” Evidently, the sarcasm was striking. Letting his sarcasm flow over her - having heard similar speeches before - she took another couple of steps towards him, calculating quietly. Maybe she could give him what he wanted, without losing her control over him.

“My strength is not all you should be concerned with.”

“Ah! But, strength all depends on perspective and view! One may be strong but, in turn, appear weak. There's a defiant fire raging in you that only I can peak…”

“What do you mean, Sir?” Taking another few steps, she was within touching distance. All it would take was one more leap and they could both get what they wanted. Although she really wanted nothing more than for him to go away. “And you wonder why I defy people? Including you?”

“Oh, I think you know exactly what I mean…” Tempted to simply seize the woman there and then - having his way with her before going on his way - Hyde's insidious gaze stalked Lucy's every movement. “The simple fact you like to believe you are stronger than you are.”

“I am stronger than I look.” Summoning up what little courage she had managed to regain, she took a step forward that carried her onto the bed, her finger trying to grab hold of his wrists, pinning him below her.

“Even now, you insist on this façade…” Possessing greater sexual tendencies than Jekyll could ever fathom in his darkest nightmares, Hyde held no objections to Lucy's advances; dominant or otherwise.

“You have no idea what is my facade and what isn't.” Grinding against him, she leaned down, trying to not let go of his wrists as she used her teeth to unfasten the buttons on his shirt, being none too gentle, not caring if she bit his skin in the process. Subtly clearing his throat, Hyde exaggerated every pronounced facial expression when he spoke; clearly quoting himself.

“I can always tell when you are lying. You think I'm oblivious to when you feign strength and control?” Ironically, he was the one below Lucy - true - but it was hardly against his will.

“This is my place, Sir. In here, my rules stand. And my control. And you know that's the truth.” Stopping for a moment, she looked at him, her legs straddling his. “Tell me what you want…”

As though she were a mere rag-doll, Hyde unleashed a force so great that Lucy - somehow - ended up below him with limbs thrashing at the sheer extent of the harsh motion.

“That, my dear, is obvious.”

“No…” Fighting for control, she tried to push him back around but was too weak. Gasping for breath, she met his eyes again, frightened but determined to do her duty as she must. “I suppose…”

“It's a sin with no name. And, you, dearest Lucy, are a tiger to tame…” With that, those ice-cold lips of the corpse-like Hyde began to apply pressure to the crevice between the prostitute's neck and bosom.

“You've no remorse... No shame…” Shuddering as his lips claimed her skin, she tried to cling to her dream of a new life she could make for herself if she tried. If she submitted now. “And the devil I blame…”

“Such a predicament, Lucy...You wish to succumb but fear the consequences...It's like a hand in a flame: get too close and you'll _buuurn_ …”

“Your touch burns yet it's like ice... I am already burning... Ever since…” Biting her lip, she made herself shut up.

“It's a dangerous game, Lucy...Such...A dangerous...Game…” Words executed with a sinister, exaggeratingly-lustful hush, Hyde crawled across the bed. Staying put, she let him crawl over her prone form, closing her eyes, trying to fight down her terror and her desire at the same time. “Forbidden pleasures... I'm... I'm afraid... To... Take mine…”

“Consider them to be embraced, Lucy...Do not be afraid...Simply, on your guard…” A truly bizarre sight unfolded - Hyde rested his own head in-between the crevice of Lucy's chin and bosom. “So tender…”

Trembling as the weight of his head pressed down, she couldn't understand why. She was always on her guard, and this tenderness just made her more suspicious. Breathing shakily, she didn't respond, just lay there shaking, for once at a loss for what to do. Stroking Lucy's thigh with a passionate groan, Hyde's lips curled into a fond, solemn smile.

“You doubt me...?”

Inhaling sharply, her legs twitched and spread slightly under him, unable to disguise the shudder of pleasure that ran through her.

“I doubt any man who threatens my life.”

Amused by this comment, Hyde laughed beneath the pressure of her skin.

“Except when it comes to removing your life, of course...Then, there is no doubt.”

“You wouldn't even dare…” Aware of how vulnerable she was, she knew that he could kill her within an instant.

“Aha! There's still time to perfect your claims of doubt...!”

“What do you mean?”

“Only I am capable of knowing that, my dear.”

“What must I do to stay alive, Sir? What will stop you?”

“You honestly expect me to hand over such information willy-nilly?”

“Of course not…”

“How terribly foolish of you, Lucy. I expected better.”

“I... I'm sorry?”

“Pah!” Pressing both hands firmly upon her bosom, Hyde forcefully shoved the woman a great distance. “I do not wish your apologies.”

Stumbling backwards, she hit the wall with a thud before collapsing onto the floor, trying to rise yet rather dizzy from where her head hit.

“Wha- What do you wish?”

“If you are wise, you will learn to prepare for my arrival, Lucy - no matter how spontaneous I may be.”

“How can I do that? I have my other work here…”

“By having this serve as a lesson and prepare for my return tomorrow evening…” And, with that, a half-pleasurable, half-reluctant sigh escaped the heaving body and, with a skeletal arch of the back, Hyde removed himself from the bed; dramatically tipping his hat in mock fashion. “Farewell, sweet Lucy…”

 


	5. Mr Edward Hyde's First Victim

Embracing the inner pleasures and erotic desires that Hyde's power granted, Jekyll - well, Hyde - strode through the darkened alleys of Soho with a silver-lined cane residing atop his shoulder. The posture was most malevolent indeed and every breath seemed to induce a greater pretension. Caught amongst the primal yearning and internal lust of his own doing, 'Jekyll' slammed past a youthful paper-boy; displaying no form of remorse for such violent actions. This was the East End. He was Hyde. He could do as he damn well pleased. Rather minding his own business, it wasn't exactly the boy’s fault if the gentleman slammed into him out of nowhere. Dropping his papers at the impact, the boy quickly gathered the papers up while shouting after him. “Oi! Mister! Come back 'ere an' pay for the papers you've wrecked!”

Rather content to simply leave the youth to revel in his own despair and faux-threatening tone, Hyde's perception shifted to one of greater malnegligence - stopping at the end of the alleyway with no warning. His shadowed form seemed to consume the entire area and the faint glint of the cane served as an indicator of wealth and class. Teeth gritted in sinister impatience, the creature grated.

“Or what?”

Piling the papers on his pile, the boy ran after him, slamming into him as he stopped suddenly. Backing off a pace, folding his arms stubbornly, the boy tried not to tremble as he met Hyde's eyes.

“Or me master'll beat me t' an inch of me life an' I've got three sisters t' feed. Be a gentleman of charity, sir, please.”

Beneath the darkened rim of the crooked hat, a warped sneer corrupted Hyde’s pale flesh - a sight so vile that it would curdle the blood of any living soul.

“Your pleas for mercy are meaningless, boy.”

Paling at the sneer of the man before him, the young boy took a step back, still trying once more.

“Please, sir. A gent like 'oo won' miss sixpence. Please.”

Converging upon the feeble form beneath him, Hyde cocked his head to the side; cane tapping against his shoulder before bringing itself across the boy's torso in a trailing manner.

“You wish to be beaten, lad?” Raising an eyebrow, the cane was brought down with great ferocity. “So be it!”

Trembling as the cane trailed across his torso, he was unprepared for what happened next. Falling to the cobbles with a cry as the cane came down, feeling it break two of his ribs, the boy started crying.

“No... Sir, please…”

Heralding the violence with an un-nerving laugh that resonated throughout the alley, Hyde raised the boy's chin to meet his eye with the very tip of the cane.

“Should it make you feel better, the pain shan't last - the dead don't tend to remember, I hear.” Slamming the youth head-first into the wall with the mere force of the cane, Hyde watched as, blow by blow, more blood seeped from the wounds and bones visibly began to break. Only having the time for one final scream of terror, the boy passed out - which was probably a mercy - as Hyde continued his vicious assault on him. Raining the fateful weapon down upon the torn carcass - teeth grinding so fiercely that they threatened to dislodge - Hyde spat upon the grotesque remains with an inner amusement before striding off into the darkness; cane upon his shoulder, footsteps resonating and a laugh that died with the night.

 


End file.
